No Going Back
by JoBabeAlly
Summary: In the Mirrorverse, Jean-Luc Picard and the newly-married Beverly Crusher meet in the receiving line at her reception, and sparks fly. What will it mean for them?


**Warning: Explicit sex. You have been warned.**

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><p><strong>No Going Back: A Mirrorverse Romance<strong>

The first time Beverly Crusher, nee Howard, laid eyes on her husband's commanding officer, she was lost.

The irony of the fact that it was at her wedding reception, the night of her marriage to Jack Crusher, was not lost on her.

He'd spoken of Jean-Luc Picard with respect and admiration and not a little fear, which was to be expected; anyone who had risen to the rank of Starship Captain in the Imperial Starfleet of the Terran Empire was not to be trifled with. The fact that he'd managed to achieve his rank without assassinating his previous commanding officer was unusual, but not unheard of. He'd proven himself strong enough to reach that goal through the more difficult path, but one that bought him far more loyalty from both those who served beneath him and those who eyed his rise to power from above.

Not that any of that mattered to her, of course, or so she told herself as she watched him make his way down the receiving line. Toward her. Toward Jack. Jack, who had ambitions of his own and intended to achieve his own captaincy one day. If he hadn't had such ambitions, she never would have manipulated him into marrying her.

No, not manipulated, she chided herself. She loved him, that was why she married him. And if he had a golden future ahead of him, then so much the better. Right?

Yeah, right. One look at Jean-Luc Picard and she knew which was the lesser man. And rank had nothing to do with it.

He was closer now, nearly at the head of the receiving line, just one mother-in-law away from reaching out and taking her hand in his. She felt her breath quicken in time with her suddenly accelerated heartbeat, and sweat beaded along the back of her neck at the thought of his touch, her palms tingling in anticipation of feeling his hand in hers.

He was tall, muscular, well built and obviously self-assured, or else he'd have long since gotten some kind of hair implants. Instead, he wore what was left of his white hair neatly trimmed around the sides of his head, a small goatee perhaps his only concession to vanity. Or perhaps not; she suspected he felt he had nothing to prove, and doubted that his lack of hair follicles on the top of his head kept him from getting any woman he wanted into his bed.

Oh, God, that thought made her knees tremble, and she tightened her grip on Jack's arm as Picard finally approached her.

Jack didn't seem to notice, too eager to introduce his new bride to his captain. "Jean-Luc, this is Beverly."

He was bursting with pride, as if she were a fabulous catch from the courts rather than a lowly colonial who'd managed to rise above her rank and marry into one of the most prestigious families on Earth. She told herself she loved that about him even as her attention remained glued to Picard.

The sleeveless vest he wore showed off his muscular arms and shoulders to perfection; the tight-fitting black pants did just as good a job at demonstrating his powerful legs, his narrow waist and flat belly. The Starfleet dress uniform suited him, and she shivered as she imagined him removing it, showing her the rest of his chest and stomach, thighs and knees and…

She reached out and took the hand he was offering her as Jack continued to babble in the background. Picard's eyes caught and held her gaze, and she felt her lips part as he took her hand in a firm grip, fingers tightening around hers as if he, too, felt the sudden sizzle of electricity she felt between them. He practically radiated power, arrogance and self-assurance and not a single hint of weakness.

He was no doubt as ruthless and cruel as any captain in the Fleet, but an atavistic part of Beverly Crusher responded to him in ways she'd never responded to the man she'd just pledged her life to. The man she'd vowed to love, honor, and obey, forsaking all others and cleaving only unto him.

The man who faded into insignificance compared to his commanding officer.

Without removing his gaze from hers, Picard murmured some response to Jack, then released her hand with what felt like reluctance. But before he turned to leave them and join the rest of the guests milling about the ballroom, he raked her with an appreciative glance that told her yes, he'd felt something as well.

It was as if he'd seen her standing there naked rather than wrapped up in the archaic white dress she'd been required to don, a dress symbolizing a purity she hadn't had since the night of her fifteenth birthday. Judging by the way his gaze lingered as Jack shook hands with the next well-wisher, she was going to find out exactly what he felt. And sooner rather than later.

She couldn't help the shiver of mingled fear and anticipation that passed over her frame at the thought.

**Two Hours Later**

Beverly had just finished changing from her wedding gown into her traveling dress, a tight-fitting white sheathe, when the chime rang. "Come in," she called out, expecting it to be Jack or her grandmother.

"You look even lovelier than you did in your wedding dress."

She gasped and spun around to face the man who was stepping into her room. "Captain Picard," she stuttered, her heart racing in her chest. She'd just been thinking about him; hell, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him ever since that oh-so-erotically charged hand-clasp in the receiving line. Out of self-preservation, she'd murmured an excuse about needing to change and have a bit of a lie-down before they left. Jack had accepted her with a kiss and a nod as his best man and groomsmen dragged him off to share a smoke and probably dirty wedding night stories with him.

She'd promised to rejoin the party within an hour; barely fifteen minutes had passed, and now, here she was, alone in her private room with a man she'd only just met and had already had more than one feverish fantasy about.

While she dithered, standing there holding the back of her dress together with one hand and half-supporting herself against the mirror with the other, he'd turned and deliberately punched in the privacy code on the door, sealing it shut against anything but an emergency. He moved deliberately toward her, a feline swagger to his walk, eyes boring into hers, and she felt her knees wobbling as he approached.

"So much lovelier," he breathed as he stopped in front of her, reaching around to take her wrist in his hand and bring it to his lips for a lingering kiss.

Beverly gasped as she felt his tongue rake the inside of her wrist, and she would have fallen if he hadn't pulled her roughly against him. Her free hand flew up to his shoulder, only partly so she could steady herself. "Captain Picard," she tried again, but he stopped her with a finger pressed against her lips.

"Call me Jean-Luc, mon cher," he whispered as he pulled the finger away and bent down to press a toe-curling kiss to her lips, his tongue demanding entrance and her own mouth parting to allow the intimate contact.

A small part of her mind was screaming at her, telling her that she'd just gotten married, for God's sake, what the hell did she think she was doing? The rest of her mind was lost in the heat of the embrace, as she pressed her fingers against the back of his neck and invited him to deepen the kiss even further.

He released her wrist in order to embrace her with both arms, crushing her against his chest as she pressed her body tightly against his. She felt his fingers moving to unzip her dress, allowing it to drop to the floor when he finally released her.

She stared up at him as he slowly removed his sleeveless vest, her fingers moving as if of their own accord to brush through the mat of curly white hair the covered his chest. Jack's chest was hairless, and she'd always thought that to be her preference until this very moment. She brushed her fingers against his nipples, which hardened under her touch.

He made a sound like a low growl in the back of his throat and yanked her against him for another searing kiss. As he ground his hips against hers, she felt the solid heat of his erection and felt a wave of desire flow upward from her core and extend itself from toes to fingertips and every point in between. She was flushing, she could feel the heat on her cheeks and breasts, and her own nipples were pebbled and hardened just from the sheer eroticism of the moment.

Picard saw every tiniest nuance of her reaction to him, and knew that his instincts had been right. Mon Dieu, to think that he'd almost skipped the wedding! But Jack had wheedled and pleaded, more out of a desire to flaunt his famous captain than out of any desire for the man's actual company, and Picard had complied simply because he had nothing better to do.

He'd seen pictures and holo-vids of the future Mrs. Jack Crusher, of course, and found her attractive enough for a leggy red-head, but he'd always favored blondes and brunettes—at least until he'd shaken the brides hand in the receiving line. After that, everything was a red haze of desire. He had to have this woman, right now, this very night, and when she'd excused herself to take an hour's rest, he knew it to be his only chance to get her alone.

Alone, and naked, and here he was, more than half-way to that goal. The tiny slip of white lace that passed for panties were ridiculously easy to strip off her, and she seemed just as eager to get him out of his own clothing as well, kneeling down to help slip his dress boots off his feet and watching with feral eyes as he shimmied out of his tight black trousers.

Beverly licked her lips in anticipation as Jean-Luc finally deposited the last item of his clothing onto the floor. He swept her into his arms for a third kiss, even more exhilarating than the first two, pressing her back onto the ottoman which he'd just vacated after allowing her to help remove his boots. He knelt between her legs, pressing her knees apart as she leaned back on her elbows to watch as he lowered his head and kissed the inside of her thigh.

She moaned as his lips moved closer to her female center, and nearly cried out as his tongue darted into the moist entrance. "Oh, God, Jean-Luc," she moaned as her head fell back on her shoulders, eyes clenched tight as she felt the dampness between her legs growing. "Please, oh yes, please…"

Jean-Luc smiled to himself as he heard her begging him to continue his ministrations. The sound of his name on her lips was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard, sweeter even than the sounds of her pleasure as he busied himself between her legs. His tongue penetrated deep inside, then moved up to lap against her clitoris.

She was on the brink, so close, so very close, when suddenly he inserted two fingers deep inside her, moving with sudden urgency, tongue continuing to lick and tease her clit, and she came suddenly, crying out his name, arching her back and shuddering as he slowed his movements and eased his fingers out of her.

She gasped and trembled, eyes still tightly clenched when she felt him leaning over her. "Open your eyes," he ordered, his voice hoarse with desire, and she did, staring up at him, lips trembling as she reached up and took his face in her hands. "Tell me what you want next," he murmured as he brought his face down and pressed a series of tiny kisses to her neck and collarbone.

"Love me," she whispered back, sliding her hands down his back and cupping his buttocks as she pressed him closer. "I want you inside me."

Kisses turned to rough nips as he moved down to her breasts. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice teasing, taunting, almost, and he easily resisted her insistent hands, keeping himself above her, not allowing the contact she obviously craved.

"God, yes," she moaned as he sucked first on one breast, then the other. She reached up and slid her fingers in the victory sign so her right nipple rested between them. He obliged her by licking between them, simulating the act he'd just performed, feeling the tension building in her body once again as he did so. "Please, Jean-Luc, please…"

"Please what?" he asked, tweaking the other nipple between his fingers and feeling her shudder in response. "Say it, Beverly, I want to hear you say it."

"Jean-Luc, please, oh God, please fuck me," she begged, trying to drag his face up to hers for another kiss. He allowed it, giving over a small measure of control, allowing her to taste herself on his lips and tongue as one hand moved down to graze her hip. She arched upward, and he finally allowed them both some measure of relief as he lowered his body to rub his aching erection against the damp curls between her legs.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, his voice a lethal purr as he returned to pressing hot kisses along the column of her throat. "After that, there's no going back."

No going back. Was this truly what she wanted? She'd just gotten married, for God's sake; her husband was waiting for her downstairs, along with a room full of guests, friends and family and allies and even an enemy or two who would love to see her fall.

When she looked up into Jean-Luc's eyes, however, all such considerations faded, and she simply nodded.

Surrender, utter and complete surrender. The only terms he would ever accept. With that nod, Picard, allowed himself to dive deep within her, grunting with pleasure as she cried out and hugged him tightly to her. Their hips moved with a pounding rhythm, and he felt her building to a second climax, smiling to himself in satisfaction as she reached it, crying out and clutching him to her, fingers raking a trail of burning scratches down his back.

When he reached his own climax, her legs clinging to his hips, bodies slick with sweat, he nearly cried out as well, but managed to hold on to that much control.

They lay together in a tangled heap as their hearts slowly returned to normal. He gazed down at her. God, he'd never wanted a woman the way he wanted this one; it must be a kind of madness, this thing they shared between them. Why hadn't he met her before she married his first officer? Taking her away from him then would have been a blow, but not the utter humiliation it would be to take her from him on his wedding night.

That is, if anyone were ever to find out. "We should probably take a shower, clean ourselves up," he said as she smiled up at him.

The smile turned to a small frown. "My God, you're right, what if someone finds out?" She scrambled to her feet, looking around in a panic. "What are we going to tell people?"

He frowned as well, also coming to his feet. "Tell people? Nothing," he replied. "The time isn't right. For now, we keep this to ourselves."

Beverly's incipient panic turned to relief. "Of course," she agreed, nodding her head and pushing her sweat-dampened hair behind her ears. She paused, on the verge of adding something, and he saw the sudden fear flash in her eyes. "Wait, what does that mean, for now we keep it to ourselves? You're not, you're not planning on blackmailing me, are you?"

He pressed a kiss against her forehead. "No, mon cher, this has nothing to do with having something to hold over you. However, if you think I'll let you just go back to my first officer and live the rest of your life with him, you're sadly mistaken." A dark glint came into his eyes as he pulled her against him. "You belong to me, nobody else. And when the time is right, all the world will know."

Beverly succumbed to the kiss he pressed on her, his lips as harsh and demanding and downright arrogant as his tone of voice had been. God help her, but she wanted him, wanted this, never wanted it to end. Going back to Jack and pretending nothing had changed was going to be the hardest thing she'd ever done, but if it was what Jean-Luc wanted, then it was what she would do.

"When the time is right, all the world will know," she whispered to herself as he led her to the room's small bathing area.

Any love she'd thought she felt for Jack Crusher died completely as Jean-Luc took her against the shower wall, driving into her with as much heat and power as he had earlier. This time they came only seconds apart, and this time he allowed himself to cry out her name as the water sluiced over their entwined bodies.

When the time was right, they would be together. Until then they would be patient.

And whatever happened to Jack Crusher, Beverly couldn't find it in her heart to care. She only cared about one man now: Jean-Luc Picard.

And he knew he would do anything to possess her, now and for the rest of their lives.

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><p><em>AN: So this is a Mirrorverse story, obviously, in which the Empire hasn't fallen in Picard and Crusher's time. It's so fun to play in that universe, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it as much as I did!_


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